Breaking the Bank
by HowAboutThisForAName
Summary: Wyatt and his allies attempt to rob the First Bank of New Vegas, and make a few noteworthy discoveries along the way.


Wastelandic Diaspora.

Breaking the bank.

It was best to be callous.

Had a person been let off beforehand, they'd have surely caused some kind of issue down the line. That's what Wyatt believed. It became exceedingly difficult in times like these to trust most people, even if clearly benevolent just the intentions of some could intersect the means of others, which in turn could spell the end for the first party.

This was doubly so for someone in Wyatt's line of work, and so he chose his words carefully and recruited only those he knew closely, intimately.

They walked gingerly, kept their arms close, both of the bodily type and those that were more artificial. Weapons were not illegal where they walked, but the sheer amount of them between the five would surely attract eyes if they wore them too openly.

Graham had a shotgun, Ellie and Nathan sub-machine guns, Vale a bolt-action, and Wyatt himself a revolver. These were the weapons they were most prone to using anyway, but it was common knowledge that boot strapped blades and coat drawn pistols were numerous.

They walked the Strip, the only wealthy district in the decrepit ruin of a city that was New Vegas, and home to casinos, banks and hotels. Where brahmin (The sick mutated descendants of cattle) barons and off-duty soldiers wasted their hard earned coin, feeding it into the ever waiting pockets of the big three and their omnipresent overseer; Mr House.

Guarded by Securitrons -that looked like oversized tv's with arms and a single motorised tire to balance upon- and the hired guards of any establishment, it was heavy on armament even without the pistol-whipping prospectors strutting about.

For this sick, greedy street, Wyatt felt inclined to alleviate some of the funds that flowed in but this small part of the city. A modern-day Robin Hood, he considered himself, accompanied by his band of less-than-merry men.

Their target?: the First Bank of New Vegas.

'Twas a large building of soapstone and concrete, with high reaching windows and a black, marble clock above it's main entrance, a style of the Old World. A staircase at it's front, and innumerable security scanning the perimeter and indoors at all times.

It was one of the few places with security cameras, and it also posed the disparaging threat of laser turrets and sentry bots. Teamed with the intuitive human contingent, it formed up as one of the toughest places to hit for such men as themselves.

But Wyatt liked a challenge.

They stood before it, another casino to their backs. They needn't worry about traffic, no one drove in this wasteland lest they were military, and even then this walled off section didn't allow such vehicles to pass through, it didn't need it.

Even from here Wyatt could see the security guards, standing at the top of the steps, and looked at the brass lions that framed the stairs with some spite. It'd not been like this immediately after nor before the Great War. No, they'd spent money to build themselves up, the brass lions were new, the clock a costly repair they could of removed.

For the starving populace outside the tumorous heart of New Vegas, it really was a disgusting waste of funds.

Wyatt looked to his allies, who looked back as though in query. He extended a leg, and they made their way up the steps.

The guards glared at them, a few bystanders here or there whispered or gave them disgusted looks. They were not a well-kept lot, Vale a woman of enraged black locks, Nathan sporting a deep set of scars across his tanned face, and Wyatt himself looked gaunt for his armoured business suit and feathered fedora.

Of course they seemed disgraceful, and so the population of the Strip turned their noses up of them, looking down as though Wyatt and his friends were filth.

When they reached the top of the steps, it evened out for a few metres before a trio of revolving doors presented themselves. Wyatt lead the way through, ignoring the way the guards tightened their grip on their respective weapons, and cleared his throat, "I'll go to the counter."

The others gave their respective words of approval, and fanned out across the lobby, a marble trap of pillars and high ceilings, red ropes leading to the glass protected counter where many receptionists took the requests of various individuals in the lines pertaining to each subject of interest.

He saw Nathan and Graham accost a pair of sofas by the entryway, Vale go and lean up against a pillar, while Ellie seemed to have business of his own and approached the line marked Allocation & Direction.

Wyatt was simple, and took up queue in general reception, getting in line behind a man in a wide-brimmed hat, likely a farm owner of some description by his spurs and worked, tanned arms.

All the while, he took the room in.

On either side large arches lead into other sections of the building, one into a far longer queue and the other what appeared to be a lounge.

There were two guards at every entrance, big men in suits and sunglasses armed with simple magnums. Security cameras sat at periodic intervals, but did not cover the entire floorspace, and Wyatt observed a trio of particularly large blind spots that could easily be abused.

Security was likely suspicious, an armed squad didn't just strut on into a busy bank unless they were working for a PMC or businessman, and it was obvious they were neither.

Getting the jump would be difficult, that was for sure.

The line filtered through, Wyatt would make fleeting exchanges with Ellie via a glance or two, and found that his friend reached his own desk before he was at his own, the cowboy seeming to enchant the receptionist with vivid tales off wasteland justice and the joys of his farmstead.

Suffice to say it was frustrating for Wyatt.

But eventually the farmer was redirected out of the queue and through towards the other desk, likely to go and chat up another sweetheart. Thus it was Wyatt's turn, and he stepped forward to accost the young lady.

Blonde hair in a bouffant style, a light pink blouse and a winning smile though it was obviously fake, she greeted him cordially, "Hello sir, welcome to the First Bank of New Vegas, how may we be of service today?"

"What a practised line," Wyatt sighed, and the woman's smile fell for a moment, as though insulted, "I'm here to make an extraction."

"You mean a withdrawal?" the lady clarified, and the man allowed a sardonic smile to cross his zombie-like features.

"No, no. I know what I mean," he chuckled.

No sooner than he said that, gunfire erupted from behind, shortly followed by screams. In the breadth of a moment, Wyatt jumped through the small opening of the desk's protective window and collided with the woman, throwing her from her chair and landing upon her with a thump.

He looked over and saw that Ellie had done as such similarly, and while he winded the woman Wyatt did not stop, drawing into a roll over her and onto his feet, producing his revolver halfway through.

He fired twice, the first shot went wild, the next his one of the two security guards stationed there. Ellie simply tackled his charge, combat knife in hand as he plunged into the suited fellow's midsection.

Realising this, Wyatt turned and looked out from the desk, halfway ducking behind it to see that of the eight guards that had stood in the lobby only two still remained, one pinned behind a couch with his back to Wyatt and the other behind a pillar leading into the next room, where he was joined by a few other security guards from that area.

Civilians ran in all directions, some getting cut down in the mayhem while others managed to flee either out of the building, into the other sections of the bank or towards cover in the lobby.

With this in mind, Wyatt fired upon the open security guard, catching him in the back of the head and watching as his head exploded from the force.

Nathan and Graham had erected what looked like a child's pretend-fort and seemed to have already dispatched the two security guards that had been standing outside, having fired through the glass front of the building to do so.

Vale was pinned on the opposite entryway from the guards, seeming to have cleared the other room's security in it's entirety-constituting the other queue and desk-line- and seemed rather cool given the situation.

The security guards were thus pinned where they fired from, and Wyatt saw an opportunity; from behind the desks where he and Ellie now stood -the latter having finished up the brief struggle with the security guard- there were doors leading into either of the rooms beside the main lobby.

For this, he motioned courteously for his companion to enter, who just chuckled and gave a fast nod, nearly skipping over to the entryway.

But evidently security had the same idea, and both Ellie and Wyatt were forced to fire upon a trio of guards, the sheer fire power behind Ellie's SMG more than enough to down the lot of them.

It was only then that Ellie took up stock at the frame of the door, leaning around it with SMG at his fore, and fired upon the security presented, and Wyatt watched from his own position as the guards were drenched in lead in the arch, one fleeing only to be blasted by Graham's shotgun.

Bloody and fast, it'd been.

Standing to his full height as the gunfire died, Wyatt looked around the lobby to see the damage.

Chunks of marble and granite were missing from the walls and pillars, bodies littered the floor -though none belonging to his own men- and people hid and moaned behind cover, just starting to raise their heads as the conflict tuned down.

Stepping over the receptionist -who was sobbing on the floor- and up onto the desk, he gave ten seconds before firing a solitary shot into the ceiling, something that made the people still within the lobby flinch were they not his men.

"Alright! Now we're going to do this nice and quietly! Anyone tries to run, they get shot. Anyone tries to fight, they get shot!" he announced pragmatically, Graham and Nathan taking up the main floor space while Vale began ushering civilians into the main lobby, Ellie doing the same with his wing.

Not including the few receptionists that Wyatt watched over, there were maybe forty captives when they rounded them all up, more than the number of cuffs they possessed. Luckily, they had other means.

Vale and Graham produced four small, boxy machines, and when they had rounded up the prisoners they placed them at rough corners around them. While doing this, Nathan and Ellie took out security cameras, and Wyatt watched the doors, spying as military police and securitrons amassed at the bottom of the steps, along with an ever growing crowd.

While Vale and Graham programmed the plasma shields, the leader couldn't help but turn on his radio, and set it to an all too familiar frequency, "Hello ladies and gentlemen, I'm Mister New Vegas. Reminding you that you're no one 'til somebody loves you, and that somebody is me. I love you," Wyatt almost snickered, "Breaking news, apparently the First Bank of New Vegas is currently under siege by hostile forces, witnesses report that the devil may very well be among them, and were lead by a handsome figure holding an ivory hilted revolver. Now that's what I call a hard transaction, am I right folks? More news as it develops, right here from New Vegas' favourite radio personality."

"Handsome? That seems a bit of a stretch," Nathan smirked, scars pulling in an ugly manner, and the irony was not lost on either party.

"What can I say? I've always been a crowd pleaser," Wyatt grinned, and turned to the captives.

"You're a murderer!" an older man growled, and Wyatt shrugged.

"So is everyone standing in the room, in their own special way," he said philosophically, "I only kill people with guns, you deprive the poor of basic amenities, and thus they suffer for no reason." The man spat at Wyatt, who dodged it gingerly, "Well that's not gonna get you any brownie points sir."

The man did nothing after that, and it was only a moment after that the plasma field erected itself, encasing the captives on all four sides in a snug prison.

"Now don't you go anywhere," Vale chuckled, and a bit of laughter erupted from the robbers.

Turning, the troop split into three groups, one of Ellie and Nathan that went right and into the lounge, Vale and Graham that went left, and Wyatt all by his lonesome, jumping back over the desk and dragging up the receptionist, who was laying prone and silent up until that point.

"Ma'am, I've gotta ask that you pull yourself together, it's just your average robbery," he pleaded cautiously, righting her chair before sitting her inside it, "we've got no intention of hurting you, so if you could just come along and help us out with the terminals we'll even give you a small cut. That seems fair doesn't it?"

The woman, of whom had been crying into her hands upon being dragged up from the floor, looking between her fingers slowly, seeing that Wyatt sat upon her desk.

He looked sympathetic, and didn't have much of a reason to lie beyond greed, and he didn't look the sought of person to be encased in such desires considering his previous speech, of which she'd heard.

"Really?" she asked carefully, and he nodded slowly, making sure not to make any sudden movements, "Well..." she bit her lip, looking over the desk with bloodshot eyes at the captives, of whom stared back disapprovingly.

She'd done this job for years, people were impolite to her and she had to put up with it, she was paid little by comparison to what her job entailed and didn't really get along with anyone else in this godforsaken building. That was her thought process, so Wyatt imagined, and as she nodded he allowed a grin to grab him.

"Excellent, now come along please," he said boisterously, jumping off the table and motioning for the woman to follow, as though he knew the place better than her.

…

**Just a fun little thing, I may or may not continue this. But if I do, it'll only be two, maybe three chapters long. If you enjoyed it, feel free to review or favourite, it's really great motivation for someone as lazy as myself. But don't feel like you have to, I wrote this so it wasn't swimming up in my head with the trillions of other plot bunnies.**

**Thanks for reading so far, and hopefully you'll get a second chapter some time in the not-overly-distant future, but first I need to work on the second chapter of The Bigger Fish, which you should totally go and checkout.**

**Shameless plug, bleh.**

**Enough of my ramblings, have a lovely evening.**

**~Isaac.**


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